by Gale Deitch
I shook my head and laughed, enjoying this fond memory. “That was pretty much Micah in a nutshell, always trying to help but never quite getting it right.”
The room was so quiet you could hear a pot of soup simmering.
Glancing around, I noticed a few people dabbing at their moist eyes.
May had tears running down her cheeks as she approached me, her arms outstretched for a hug. Both of us crying, we held onto each other for a long moment. “That was my Micah exactly as you described,” she murmured into my ear. “I love you, shuga.”
“I love you, too.”
May turned and thanked everyone for coming and the band broke out with a lively “When the Saints Go Marching In.” The staff handed out colorful feather boas and umbrellas and encouraged everyone to dance and clap in celebration of Micah’s life as they followed May and the band out the door and down the block.
Daniel, Stu and I hung back in the restaurant. I knew this was May’s tradition from New Orleans, but still feeling spooked from the night before, I just couldn’t join in the festivities.
“Where are you off to now?” Daniel asked.
“I’d like to go back to the office to tie up some loose ends and see if Zach needs help cleaning up. You’ll be at Mom and Dad’s for dinner, right? Six o’clock.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Dad, you’ll give her a ride, won’t you?” he asked Stu.
“Of course. Ready, Trudie?” Stu held out his elbow for me to take his arm.
“I’ll see you later, baby,” Daniel said. “Off to work.”
“Yes, time to go back to work,” Sherrie said. I spun around, not realizing she was still here. “Ready to go?” she asked Daniel. She flashed a smug smile in my direction as if to say, “I’ve got him now.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Where’s the van?” I asked when Stu and I arrived at A Fine Fix. “Zach was supposed to be here to unload and put things away. He couldn’t be finished already.” I turned to Stu, my heart beating fast. “Could something have happened to him?”
“Now don’t jump to conclusions, Trudie. Let me see what I can find out.” Stu got out of the car and walked over to the cruiser still parked in the lot. I could tell he was asking the cop questions, gesturing to me and to the warehouse. A moment later he was back and leaning in at my car window.
“What did he say?” I asked.
“He said Zach hasn’t been back here at all. Hasn’t seen a soul since you left this morning.”
“I don’t understand. Zach was coming right back here after the bridal shower. What could have happened to him?” All kinds of scenarios went through my mind—Zach getting run off the road into a ditch or pulled out of the van and beaten up or carjacked and tied up in the back of the van. I just knew something had happened to him as a warning to me.
“Oh, no. Oh, no,” I kept repeating as each new thought entered my mind.
“Trudie, let’s not get carried away with our imagination. Check your cell phone. Did he leave you a message or send a text?” I could tell by his quiet voice and calm demeanor that he was trying to ease my fears but, having seen this tactic on TV detective shows, it only disturbed me more.
“I don’t have my cell phone. Remember, that car last night squashed it like a piece of veal scaloppini. Poor Zach couldn’t even get in touch with me if he wanted.” I could hear the alarm in my voice as I spoke, but couldn’t control it.
Stu put a steady hand on my shoulder. “Okay. Calm down, Trudie. No sense putting trouble where there is none. Let’s go inside and see if he left a message on your office phone.”
“The office phone,” I said, brightening. I got out of the car and ran to unlock the door. First I used the wrong key, then found the correct key and inserted it upside down. My hands were shaking.
Stu took the keys from my hand and unlocked the door easily. I stumbled my way inside and over to the desk. But the light on the phone wasn’t blinking. No messages. Nothing from Zach. I slumped into the desk chair. “They’ve got Zach.”
“Trudie,” Stu said in calming tones. He picked up the receiver. “Here’s the phone. Call Zach.”
“But what if he can’t answer? Maybe he’s unconscious lying in a ditch somewhere.”
“Maybe he will answer,” Stu said, holding out the receiver to me. “You don’t know until you try.”
My hands still shook as I dialed Zach’s mobile phone. It rang three times and then, “Hello.” It was Zach’s voice.
“Zach. It’s you. It’s really you. Are you all right?”
“Of course it’s me. You dialed my number. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I sighed, relieved. “But your van isn’t here, and the police officer said you haven’t been here at all this afternoon. What happened? Where are you?”
“I’m with Ally at her condo. We’re trying out some recipes for her new restaurant. We’ve come up with some great ideas, too. Can’t wait to share them with you. What? Oh, Ally says these are top secret.” He laughed. “Sorry, can’t share. What? Ally says, ‘hi.’”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. My fear had turned to relief, then disbelief and anger at what he had done, and now rage. I managed to keep my voice even. “Zach, you should have been here hours ago to get the van unloaded and put everything away. We were supposed to go over the paperwork this afternoon to finalize the job.”
“Yeah, I know. Just got side-tracked, and you were at the memorial service anyway. I can leave right now, if you want.”
“If I want?” I checked my watch. “It’s almost five o’clock. It would take you at least a half hour to get here, and I’m expected for dinner at my parents’ house at six. Zach, I can’t believe you did this to me. You didn’t even leave a message. I had no idea where you were.”
“I’m sorry, Trudie. But it’s no big deal. I’ll get it all done after I leave Ally’s.”
“No big deal? You had me worried sick. I thought—I thought--”
“You thought whoever tried to get you last night would go after me. Well you know what, Trudie? That is a possibility that never even occurred to me. Another reason for you to get the heck out of that place.”
I exhaled into the phone. “I know, Zach. I know.”
ARRIVING AT MY parents’ house, a small brick rambler on a tree-lined street in Bethesda, felt comforting to me. These days, it was like a safe haven, and when my mother answered the door, I gave her a big hug then stood back. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Daniel’s father, Stu. Stu, this is Helen.”
Stu held out his hand to her and said, “Thank you so much for having me to dinner. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to a good home-cooked meal.”
Mom took his hand in hers and then gave him a big, welcoming hug. “Stu, you are welcome to join us any time. “Such a wonderful young man, your Daniel. He’s brought so much joy into our Trudie’s life.”
“And may I say the same about her. I’ve never seen Daniel so happy as he is with Trudie.”
Dad joined us in the foyer and introductions were made again as the doorbell rang. Mom opened the door where Alan stood holding a bottle of wine.
“Mom, Dad, this is Alan Bernstein, May’s lawyer.”
“Oh, an attorney,” Mom gushed. “So wonderful to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Alan said, grinning at my mother.
“Let’s go into the living room and chat while we wait for Daniel.” Mom led the way. She’d already put out bowls of hummus and roasted eggplant dip with pita chips.
Dad opened the bottle of Shiraz Alan had brought and poured everyone a glass.
The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” I practically leapt from the sofa, anxious to see Daniel.
“Wait, Trudie.” Stu rose from his chair to accompany me to the door.
“Really, Stu?” I asked. “This is my parents’ house. I think it’s pretty safe to answer the door.”
“Just ask who it is first.” He kept his eyes on me as my parents urged him to
sit down.
“Who is it?” I asked at the door.
“Daniel.”
“Daniel who?”
“Trudie, open the door.”
I swung the door open with an impish grin on my face as Daniel snatched me in his arms and planted a firm kiss on my lips. “What was that all about?” he asked as he released me.
“Stu wanted me to make sure who was at the door. You just can’t be too careful these days, can you?”
“I guess not.” He drew me close again for a gentler kiss. “How about we skip dinner,” he said, “and get right to the bed part?”
“As wonderful as that sounds,” I answered, “how about we join our parents in the living room?”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Of what?” I asked.
“Our parents. Together in the living room. Our family, together.”
“I like the sound of it, too,” I said.
Daniel hesitated a moment when he spotted Alan and gave me a quizzical look. “What’s he doing here?”
“I invited him,” I whispered. “He didn’t have plans for dinner, and you know how Mom loves company and loves to feed people.”
“Yes, but….” He shook his head and smiled, then approached Alan, arm extended. Alan stood to shake hands, and they both nodded to each other. Then Daniel bent down to kiss Mom on the cheek and shook Dad’s hand.
Mom was grilling Stu about how long his wife had been gone, how long he’d been retired from the Philadelphia police force, and what he did for his meals every day. Did he cook? Did he eat out or carry in? Did he have someone to clean his house?
“Mom, enough with the questions. Give Stu a break.”
“No, Trudie. It’s okay. It’s not too often I have anyone concerned enough to ask those kinds of questions.” Stu looked at my mom. “Helen, it’s lonely. Lonely and tough. You don’t realize how much a person means to you, how much they do with you and for you, until they’re gone. I don’t starve. Get those prepared meals in the deli section at the grocery store. They’re not bad. And I can push a broom around and do a load of laundry.” He smiled. “I get by.”
“What about you, Mr. Bernstein?” Mom asked Alan. “A married man?”
Oh, no, I thought. Not again. I peered at Daniel beside me and detected a smirk on his face. Most likely he was remembering the interrogation he’d received the first time he’d eaten at my parents’ table.
“Single. But please, call me Alan.”
“And what do you do about meals at home, Alan? And household chores.”
“I’m afraid I tend to work in my office most evenings. I usually order in Thai food or sushi. And I’ve got a housekeeper who cleans my condo, does the laundry. Truthfully, I’m not home that much, so the place doesn’t get that dirty.”
“Oh, my.” Mom’s eyes were wide. “How would your wife handle a schedule like that?”
Alan glanced at me and grinned. “Well, if I was lucky enough to have the right woman waiting at home for me, I’d make it a point to be there for dinner.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened and he stood up, grabbing my hand to join him. “Isn’t it time for dinner?”
Mom’s stuffed cabbage was the best she’d ever made. Or maybe it just seemed so because Daniel, Stu and Alan enjoyed it so much, the ground beef filling mixed with rice and sweet golden raisins, and with slices of challah to sop up the juices.
Daniel and I sat side-by-side at the table with Alan and Stu across from us, and Mom and Dad on each end.
“Tough case, huh?” Dad asked Alan. “How do you think you’re going to defend May with such incriminating evidence?”
Alan finished chewing and wiped his mouth with his napkin. He glanced up at my father. “Well, I can’t really discuss the case,” he said, then pointed his fork toward Daniel. “Especially with a member of the Metropolitan Police sitting at the same table.”
All of us laughed, except Daniel.
“But I will say one thing,” he continued, still focusing on Daniel. “Sometimes things aren’t as they appear.”
“That’s true,” Stu agreed, looking at my father. “Some detective stories describe the ultimate crime scene where a murder has been committed, but the room is locked with no apparent way an intruder could have gotten in or out, as if he has vanished into thin air.”
“So how do you solve a crime like that?” I asked, taking a sip of my wine.
“In most cases, the murderer has created a diversion to make it seem like the room was inaccessible when, in reality that was not true. There was always a way in and a way out.”
“How fascinating,” Mom said, her eyes glistening with interest.
Daniel shifted in his seat. “Dad, you’re talking about detective stories, fiction. Micah’s murder is a reality and must be dealt with as such.”
“But you know, son, that you and I have both encountered locked-room type crimes in real life.”
“Ever seen anything like that in Philly?” Dad asked.
Stu crossed his arms over his middle and looked up to the ceiling for his answer. “Seen something like that once. Up on the Main Line. Not so much crime in that area, but there was this one time everything pointed to the woman killing her husband. All the evidence was there, including the witnesses who found her holding the gun. House was locked. No break-in we could see. Turns out she just did everything wrong to incriminate herself. Came home, discovered the husband dead, picked up the gun.”
“So did you ever find the real murderer?” Trudie asked.
“Yeah, we found her all right. Turned out to be the housekeeper. Had something going on with the husband and then he’d rejected her.”
Stu looked Daniel in the eye. “Keep digging, son. Just keep digging and you’ll find your man—or woman.”
“Maybe.” Daniel looked directly at Alan and squeezed my thigh. “But Micah was not found in a locked room. His body was discovered outside in the alley with his sister holding the bloody knife, and everyone saw it. That’s the reality.”
Alan held his wine glass up to Daniel. “Touché, my friend. Touché.”
This time Daniel drove me home in his car. He parked on May’s side of the street and opened the passenger door for me so that I could step onto the curb and not have to cross the street. Then he walked me up onto the porch and kissed me goodnight, pinning me against the door with his body. “I miss you.”
I put my arms around his neck. “Me, too. How long will I have to stay at May’s? Until her trial is over?”
“Probably. It’s the only way to keep her out of jail for now.” He kissed me again. “I think I’ll have to come here for breakfast tomorrow morning if I’m going to pick you up.”
I groaned. “Get here as early as you can, okay?”
“You bet I will, but with May here and my dad at my house, we’re not going to get much privacy.”
“We’ll just have to make it work.” I fumbled in my purse for the key, and Daniel unlocked the door.
He kissed me goodnight in the foyer, but before he turned to leave asked, “Is there anyone else you can think of that the judge might approve to stay with May?”
I hadn’t thought about it before, but now a light went on in my head. “Yes, I think maybe there is someone else.”
Chapter Fourteen
I turned my head away from the slice of light that wedged its way into my bedroom from the hallway.
“Trudie, are you awake?” May asked through the opened door.
“I’m working on it. Come on in.”
The bracelets on her thin wrists jangled as she walked into the room and sat down on the side of my bed. “Sorry to wake you, shuga.”
“What time is it anyway?” If I had a working cell phone, I wouldn’t have to ask.
“Seven-fifteen. Daniel called. He apologized, but he’s got to get down to the station. His dad will pick you up today.”
“Not again,” I muttered into the pillow. I turned over and looked at May. “Don’t get me wrong. S
tu’s great, but I really miss Daniel.”
“I’m sorry, ma chèrie. I know it’s my fault, you havin’ to stay at my house. I wish there was some other solution to my situation.”
“Don’t blame yourself. This is beyond your control.” But maybe not beyond mine, I thought, remembering the idea that had occurred to me the night before. I sat up and took both her hands. “Listen, May. There might be another solution. I can’t tell you what it is right now, but I’m going to see if I can make it happen. Will you trust me on this?”
“Of course, I trust you.” Her wide smile told me she did.
The thought energized me to get out of bed. “I’m going to take my shower and get dressed. Let me know when Stu arrives.”
“One more thing, Trudie.”
“What?”
“I’m going back to work today. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but now you’re off the hook as far as Maybelline’s is concerned. I’m sure you’ll be glad about that.”
“I won’t lie. I’m definitely not meant to be a restaurateur. I am very happy just to stick with the catering business where I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder, wondering about my staff.” Now, though, I worried about May and her safety. I’d failed at my task of determining, or at least narrowing down, the identity of the murderer. Would I still be a target now that I was out of the picture or would the danger be transferred to May?
AFTER JOINING US for a scrumptious breakfast of May’s homemade waffles slathered with butter and syrup, Stu drove me to the mobile phone store to get mine replaced.
“It’s a good thing you have insurance, ma’am,” the clerk told me as I held up the flattened specimen in my hand. “You did a good job on this baby.”
Luckily, he was able to salvage my SIM card with all my contacts and transfer the information to my new phone.
“Back in business,” I said to Stu. “How about a cup of coffee and a donut?”